


with demons like me (what do you need angels for?)

by PandaFlower



Category: Naruto
Genre: Demon AU, Demon Deals Are Involved, Hellishly Tight Contracts Are How You Woo Demons, Itama no, Izuna's Flail Flirting, M/M, halloween fic, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 00:11:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16459739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandaFlower/pseuds/PandaFlower
Summary: Itama is too smart to let the demon in, but damn if the demon isn't attractive.





	with demons like me (what do you need angels for?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puzzle_shipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puzzle_shipper/gifts).



Izuna was fairly giddy as he strolled up to the charming little house, the porch bedecked with luridly green cobwebs and framed by cute little jack-o-lanterns with lopsided but enthusiastic faces. Even the welcome mat had been replaced with a larger, holiday themed one. It seemed to beckon him to alight upon it, to make himself comfortable on the doorstep of his fondest target, as he tried one more time — surely the charm! — to elicit an invitation inside.

No human could resist the charms of Hell’s silverest tongue forever, Izuna swore it so, just as he swore Hell’s silverest tongue could find no words to describe the emotions this particular human caused him beyond _searing warmth that isn’t fire,_ and _softness that isn’t weak,_ and _a need beyond breathing that just might kill me._ It’s all very confusing and undemonic. Enough to give him shivers if he thought about it too long.

(He ignores that they’re pleasant shivers, more fool him.)

Izuna presses the doorbell with a practiced, jaunty smile, wrinkling his nose a bit at the artificial witch cackling. He can do way better than that without even _trying._

A muffled crash comes from inside, the sound of someone too hastily getting up from the couch, followed by faint swearing. The door swings open to reveal his favorite human, sleep mussed and cozy clothes and two-toned hair sticking up in a feathery mess. _Beautiful,_ Izuna cooed in the safety of his thoughts.

Who knew humans came in adorable, right?

“Trick and treat!” Izuna sang, grinning. That is what the larval humans said tonight, right? Right. Izuna is the most knowledgeable about these things.

Itama leaned on the doorway, crossing his arms, expression falling somewhere between _politely curious_ and _what is it this time?_ “If it isn’t my favorite crossroads annoyance, getting human conventions almost right. Again.”

“That’s just plain hurtful, darling. If I didn’t know better I’d think you didn’t like me.” Izuna pulled out his best pout, the one that’s practically a smolder. Guaranteed to get his way or your money back. Except not really, because he’d never give money back after parting it from other hands.

“Sure, sure,” Itama stifled a yawn, still a bit bleary eyed. “So what’s it going to be today then; door-to-door salesman, fundraiser, activist? Ooh, maybe you can play missionary again. Watching you try to advocate for religion in a positive and approving manner was hilarious. I think you burned your tongue.”

Izuna drooped. “It was awful. My mouth tasted like goodness and joyful arias for _two whole days._ Never again I tell you. My brother made fun of me for lisping my curses the whole time!”

“What a jerk,” Itama offered, too solemn not to be laughing at him.

“You said it,” Izuna huffed. “Where ever he is right now, I hope he’s having an awful time. Just, the worst. The most embarrassing night of his life even! He’d deserve it.”

That got him a laugh, soft and bright and happy. Chasing the last vestiges of sleep out his favorite human’s eyes and replacing it with something much brighter. Something that made Izuna as gooey as the glowing basaltic lava rivers of his homeland inside, and just as liable to melt him if he gave into the urge to touch it.

“In fact,” Izuna continued, “it was so awful you should invite me in for a drink. We can watch bad halloween movies and eat all the candy I can smell you hiding in the living room somewhere.”

Itama burst into new giggles, flushing pink. “Nice try, you! It’s gonna take a lot more than that to make me let you cross my threshold.”

“But Itamaaa,” Izuna drawled, leaning forward then rocking back on his heels. “I just want to spend time with you.” More like forever, but who counts time, right?

“Tell you what, Izuna,” Itama flashes him a delightfully impish smile, a quick flash of teeth behind a kissable mouth. “I’ll let you cross my threshold if, _if_ you can get off my welcoming mat.”

Sweet hellfire barbecue, was tonight the night Itama finally let him in!? Izuna bounced on his toes, a floaty giddiness zinging up from his toes and curling warm in his sternum, and most certainly not in his heart, no. He’s a demon, and they don’t do that.

So eager was he that he didn’t think twice to practically bounce forward—

And consequently bounced off an invisible barrier right in front of his nose, stumble backwards, collide with another barrier, and fall on his rump.

“Wha—?” Izuna found himself in the bewildering position of being scrunched in an invisible circular barrier.

“There it is,” Itama smiled, cat satisfied.

With some difficulty Izuna made to his feet and kicked the welcoming mat away, revealing a sprawl of symbols within a circle in white chalk. “Is that—?!”

“Yep.” Itama pushed off the doorway. “I lifted it off the internet so, I wasn’t a hundred percent certain it would work.”

“But...why would you do this?” Izuna asked. The foundations of the world had been rocked it seems, even the porch felt unsteady under his feet. He stared, caught, at his own hand splayed tight against thin air.

Itama looked awkward, shuffling bare feet sheepishly. “Um, I needed your attention without you running off on me.”

“Why would I do that?” Izuna didn’t like this feeling, this quiet crack trying to form.

Itama held up a finger and leaned back to grab something— a sheaf of paper, off the table by the door. He presented it for Izuna’s perusal, who accepted it automatically. He stared blindly at it until what he was actually seeing finally sunk in.

“What.” He squinted. “Is this a _marriage contract?!_ ”

“Got it in one!”

Distantly, Izuna felt his jaw drop.

“I mean, I like you an awful lot, Izuna, you’re pretty awesome for a demon who keeps trying to invade my house,” Itama continued, heedless of Izuna’s stunned expression. “But I just can’t take the next step with you without a tight contract, you know? That’s just not smart and we both know it. So, my solution.” He nodded to the contract.

“You want to get married?” Izuna squeaked.

“That…is what I just said, yes,” Itama nodded slowly.

“You want to get married _to me?_ ” Well. Denial was nice while it lasted. So long firm belief in his own untouchability, Izuna saw it for what it was now. That warm gooey center he’d been doing his best to ignore was swelling, melting him from the inside out.

Itama caught him! Offered him a contract! One of the clauses he’s seen on it had twenty-six subclauses alone! Sweet hellfire, Izuna was getting married to the _best human ever._

Actually, holy shit but this contract was an actual thing of beauty and Izuna wanted each individual page framed for his continual enjoyment. Every clause had no less than ten subclauses, each cascading from the other like music notes in a greater song. There was print so fine Izuna had to pull out a magnifying glass to find them all!

Nothing about this marriage contract wouldn’t pass muster with hell’s lawyers, and Izuna was in love.

He’s finally ready to admit it. To himself.

Telling Itama with his out loud voice would take some working up to.

Izuna conjured a fountain pen with a fancy, fiery flourish and signed on the dotted line, bright red ink gleaming wetly. He blew on the signature to dry it, before handing the contract over with rather more eagerness than was quite dignified. He couldn’t help it; today was the day Itama let him in!

Itama looked it over, signed it himself with a satisfied smile that made something hot curl in Izuna’s stomach, and set it aside, back on the side table. He bent over more to grab something that sounded much heavier, giving Izuna a split second to ogle the view, before he reemerged with a bucket of water. A quick splash and the chalk underfoot dissolved enough to loosen its bonds; Izuna swiped a foot through it for good measure, smiling as the barrier faded away.

“Well,” Itama mused, fingering the handle of the bucket. “I do believe I owe you a drink and bad movies.”

“So you do,” Izuna cheerfully agreed.

And then Itama stepped aside with an inviting wave and Izuna lost his breath.

It felt— momentous, to put a foot through, to shift his weight forward, to pull the other foot in. The daunting threshold penetrated. An inner sanctum, once held sacred, entered by a demon. The giddy feeling was coming back.

“Happy?” Itama asked.

“Very much so.”

 


End file.
